A Pirate's Lust, a Woman's Love
by Pearls and Opals
Summary: [ Full summary inside. ] The temptation was almost more than enough for him. One look at her face told him all he needed to know. Hurting, angry, and maybe even a little drunk, he let go. Love was, indeed, a battlefield. And he had lost. Again.


A Pirate's Lust, a Woman's Love

**Chapter One**

_Summary - JE, WOC. DMC spoilers. Some AU. Slightly OoC. Elizabeth and Jack are finally together, leaving Will bitter and cold. After coming to a 'deserted' island, a mysterious character joins the plot. Will finds himself falling for her, and fast. But all thoughts of love are put on hold when Davey Jones and other evil characters set their eyes on capturing Elizabeth and the girl. It is when this happens that Will and Jack must pull together to save the women they love, and fight the last battle, for good. But a chilling secret has Will begin to think about giving up his own heart..._

**Chapter summary - Will finally has a talk with Elizabeth, Jack can really hold his liquor, and some of the crew aren't as dumb and smelly as they first appear. **

_Note: This is my first POtC fiction. Please be a bit gentle with me in your reviews. _

**And don't expect all chapters to be the same length. Sometimes they'll be longer than this, other times shorter. It all depends what events I choose to happen, how I write them, etc.**

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Elizabeth clutched at the cabin railing again, trying not to topple over onto her back. The ship, groaning and pulling against the waves, wasn't having an easy time itself. Elizabeth swore softly as a particularly nasty wave slammed into the ship, causing to knock her off-balance, and onto the floor. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she tried to stand, but the sea wasn't giving up.

"FINE!" she said aloud. "I'll just sit here, on my bum, staring at the ceiling while the ship falls to its DOOM!"

"Elizabeth?"

"Will?"

Elizabeth heaved herself onto the bed, her stomach clenching painfully. She and Will hadn't exactly been on speaking terms. Her fiancé had merely taken to ignoring her, and, if they _did_ happen to pass eachother, say, in the corridor, or on deck, they merely exchanged nods. It was almost as if they didn't know eachother anymore.

Elizabeth hated the fact that she couldn't even talk to him, hated herself for what she had done to him. She knew there really was no forgiveness in this type of situation, and understood that they couldn't be a Will-and-Elizabeth anymore. Well, _she_ did at least. But Will, he had to at least know, didn't he? Elizabeth bit her lip as her fiancé (she had to stop calling him that!) appeared, raising his eyebrows at the sight of her.

She gave him a weak smile and tried to stand, but soon realizing that all efforts towards that were fruitless, she stayed on the bed, but pulled herself to an upright position.

"Will...can I talk to you?" she asked, not being able to look at him. She knew exactly what she wanted to say to him, and though the conversation had gone quite well in her mind, the tightness in her throat made her voice hoarse, and she could barely breathe. She hated to think about hurting Will, but the job had already been done, and she couldn't take it back: she realized, before leaving Jack on the ship to his doom, that she loved him. Of course, she had been in a great denial stage at this thought, but time and Tia Dalma had finally convinced her that she did, truly, in fact, love him.

After Jack had been saved, after coming back from the ends of the world, Elizabeth had tossed and turned at night, too anxious to sleep, knowing that Jack was finally safe, and somewhere close to her. She couldn't even think about anything except Jack, and the constant, nagging voice in her head (usually Tia Dalma's) had been restless as well, and finally convinced her to tell Jack.

Jack, at first, had been disbelieving, convinced she was playing some joke on him, but once he realized that she wasn't, well, he had ignored her for four days straight, but after having an...encounter with her in one of the cabins, and after she whispered her love for him again, he accepted the fact that she did love him, though, for the first time in all her remembrance, he had been silent, thinking.

Of course, she didn't expect him to tell her he loved her. That would be asking for far too much from Jack, and he had given her enough already. She knew, most likely, that she would never hear the words come from Jack's mouth-- well, at least, the words meant for her; she knew his heart belonged to the sea, but she also knew that a part of it belonged to her, whether he said it aloud or not. And that, surprisingly, was enough for her.

William Turner sighed heavily, knowing that this conversation hadn't been too far off. He just didn't expect it at this moment.

"Can it wait?" He said more coldly than he'd meant to, "I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment."

"No, it can't," she replied, ignoring his tone. "It's urgent."

Will sighed, and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

It was silent for a moment-- the only sounds were men yelling, and the waves pushing and slopping against the sides of the ship.

Elizabeth looked away as he sat down next to her, fiddling with her hands, silent. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

"Will, I...we- we can't be...together. Anymore."

He sighed. "I know."

"I don't...I mean, I love you, but I'm not _in _love with you..." she whispered. God, this was harder than she had thought it would be. Already she could feel the tears burning the backs of her eyes, and the tightness was squeezing up her throat slowly. She would cry soon.

"I...know." Those words had been particularly hard to bear, and even harder to respond to.

"I'm sorry, Will. I...I never-- I never meant for this to happen, but...but I can't go on and pretend to be madly in love with you..."

"What happened to us?" he whispered, holding his head in his hands, sounding dangerously close to tears himself. "Why are we falling apart?"

She was silent for a moment, contemplating his question. Around them, the wood creaked and groaned, as if tired. That was how she felt. Old, and withered, and broken, and tired.

"I suppose..." she said carefully, "we were always falling apart. Just never noticed it. Or chose not to."

She was surprised at Will. She thought they would be in a screaming match, throwing insults, yelling their heads off, but he was solemnly taking this quite easily. Almost _too_ easily.

"I know, you know."

Elizabeth had to think for a moment about what he was talking about. Realization fell over her, and her eyes widened.

"Will..."

"I saw you kiss Jack. And that's when I knew. You lied to the rest of us, but I knew you too well to have actually believed it. Of course, I had been in denial the whole time, and I busied myself with running the ship while we were searching for Jack..."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her lip trembling. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, you did," he said, his voice going cold. "Anyway, I appreciate you telling me. I have to get back on deck."

Elizabeth said nothing as he stood up and slowly walked to the door. His hand was on the doorknob when he turned back to her.

"You love him, don't you?"

She didn't answer, just hung her head like a puppy does when it knows its done something wrong. She felt ashamed of herself. Why had she actually believed that everything was going to be alright? Well, now she didn't, not anymore. She may have been with the man she truly loved, but she had hurt the one who cared the most about her.

Will sighed, blinked back the tears in his eyes, opened the door, and slammed it behind him.

It seemed, for the first time in her remembrance, that the ship was eerily quiet, as if it had been holding its breath.

"Yes," she finally whispered aloud to the empty room, "I love him."

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Up on deck, the crew was dancing around, holding bottles of rum and singing, clearly giddy about something. Of course, most of that giddiness had to do with the flasks and bottles in their hands, and usually, when you're drunk, everything's about ten times funnier than usual. Cleaning the deck and raising and lowering the sails seemed to be one of them.

But what that _other_ something was, Will didn't ask, but it had to have been for a stupid reason, because Captain Jack Sparrow himself was leading the conga line.

Just the sight of the captain dancing around, drinking rum, singing as if he had not a care in the entire world made Will's fingers clench into fists, and made a hot, bubbling anger swell and rise in his chest, so much so that it hurt to breathe.

It just wasn't fair. How could he and Elizabeth be madly in love one day, and then exchanging mere nods, as if they didn't know eachother the next? It was because of Jack. That had been, is, and would always be, Will's answer to the question. Jack always seemed, with the exception of Elizabeth, to basically win everything over Will. And now...now he had taken the one thing that had truly mattered to him: the love of his life.

Of course, now he knew that he should probably stop calling her (and he knew it did seem kind of stupid) Elizabeth; things were just too awkward between them now to call her by her first name. He knew that he'd have to force himself to call her by her last name from now on, which, with a pang in his heart, made him realize that it would have been his. But not anymore. Mrs...Sparrow? _If _they chose to marry, which Jack may not be open to. But it didn't matter. Either way, she wouldn't be his, would never be his. He'd just have to accept that fact and try to move on. Hopefully.

Will stepped around one of the members of the crew, who was lying on the ground, seeming to be unconscious, judging by the limp way he was holding the silver flask. Watching in disgust as another man bent down and took the flask, Will raised his eyebrows at the man, whose named seemed to have been forgotten on Will's account; since Elizabeth's actions, he barely remembered anything anymore. The man gave him a toothless grin, raised the flask to his lips, took a few gulps, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and then joined in the festivities again.

"Hello, William."

Will inwardly groaned; he knew he should have made an attempt to hide himself.

"Hello, Jack."

"How's your _darling_ Elizabeth doing?" Jack swayed towards Will, almost falling on top of him. Will pushed him off and took a step back; Jack's breath smelled disgustingly of rum, and the scent of it nearly made Will sick.

"Fine," Will replied dryly. "But I'm sure you already have the answer to that question. Don't know why you had to ask."

"First of all," Jack said, staggering dangerously towards the bow of the ship, holding up two fingers, trying to regain his balance, "she's not _my_ _fiancé_. Second of all: I have no idea _what_ you're talking about."

"I think you do," Will said in a surly voice. "If you'll excuse me--"

But three of the crewmen wondered, or rather, _stumbled_ upon their chat, and one of the smellier ones wrapped an arm around Will's shoulder, leaning in far too close for comfort. It had, on more than one occasion, dawned on Will that some of the crew were, uh...not exactly _straight_, and that action only increased Will's belief. (AN: I know the word **gay** was only used to describe someone as merry and happy, so I'm not exactly sure _what_ they called men and women that were attracted to the same sex. If there were any besides pirates. Even Johnny Depp said there's an air of gayness about Jack Sparrow. Alright, the fun facts are over. Moving on.)

Will took in a deep breath and held it there, wondering how long he could go until he passed out.

"So," said the smelly crewman, "How's our sweet Elizabeth doing?"

"Yeah," chimed in another, raising his flask, "How's darlin' Elizabeth? What's she up to?"

"None of your business," Will said, not being able to hold in his breath anymore, and broke away from him. "And don't get any ideas, either."

"Ah, the missus has dumped you, hasn't she? Tough luck, m'boy. But hey: 'appens to the best of us."

The men laughed at this remark, and Will felt disgusted at them. God, he was glad he didn't get drunk like this. But the men had hit home. She _had_ basically dumped him. For another man, no less. And it hurt. God, it hurt.

"Not as dumb as you look, are you Peters?" Will asked dryly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Or smelly," added the third, and the three fell into gales of laughter.

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End file.
